


The Smell of Happiness

by Chef_Geekier



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Scent Kink, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chef_Geekier/pseuds/Chef_Geekier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek likes it when Stiles smells like him. He goes to increasingly bizarre lengths to to make this happen. Stiles doesn't get it - until he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Smell of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon setting, but ignoring the existence of season three onwards – one big happy pack with Derek, Stiles, Scott, Allison, Jackson, Lydia, Isaac, Erica and Boyd, with Peter hanging around the edges.
> 
> ETA: My giftee dropped out, so this is now a give to the Fall Harvest Community. Hope you all enjoy!

As most things in Derek's life, it was all Peter's fault.

Well, maybe not _all_ his fault, but still. Derek was going to blame Peter. It was certainly better than the option of admitting that he liked anything about Stiles.

Specifically, he liked it when Stiles smelled like him.

He was so screwed.

* * *

The first time Derek noticed, it was indeed Peter's fault. Since becoming one big pack (the better to protect themselves and their families), Peter had taken an interest in bugging Stiles. Which was unfortunate, since he was also teaching Stiles how to control his 'spark' – the two spent a great deal of time around each other, and Stiles was torn between wanting to put wolfsbane in Peter's coffee and wanting to learn everything the older werewolf knew. This particular day he was leaning more towards the poisoned coffee.

Derek was puttering around his apartment, doing all the small things he'd been putting off during the latest crisis. He'd just gotten a load of washing from the dryer when his door slammed open and Stiles stormed in, grumbling under his breath but still perfectly audible to Derek.

“That condescending prick, always knows better than everyone else... lucky I need his brain... so damn handsy...”

Frowning, Derek headed back out into the living room where Stiles had thrown himself on the sofa. The teen was muttering darkly still, scowling as he rummaged through his backpack. A quick inhale confirmed what Stiles was grumbling about. Peter's scent was all over him.

Unbidden, a growl left Derek's throat. Stiles jumped in place, then transferred his glare to Derek.

“Dude! Your uncle's a total creep, you are aware of this right? Seriously, I do not need that level of hands-on teaching!” He continued to ramble, but Derek tuned it out. The smell was really bugging him, Peter's scent taking over so much of Stiles'. After a few minutes he decided that he needed to do something about it and grabbed Stiles by the scruff of the neck, dragging him upright.

“Woah! Derek! I get you're a cave-man, but really? Quit hauling me around!”

Derek vaguely noticed that Stiles wasn't actually putting up a fight as he yanked the boy's hoodie off and tossed it aside. He was just yapping like a pup, letting Derek do what he wanted. Something like satisfaction curled low in his gut as he shoved Stiles back down onto the sofa.

“That stinks. I'm washing it.” There, that should satisfy Stiles.

“Dude, what?” Of course not. This was Stiles he was thinking about. “Give that back! It's freezing in here. Wait, was that the plan? Get Peter to drive me nuts, then let me die of hypothermia here?”

“You won't get hypothermia in here,” Derek rolled his eyes. Still, it was a little cold. He hadn't noticed before since he'd been busy all day, but humans were rather more fragile than wolves. At least, that's what Derek told himself as he tossed his own jacket at Stiles' head. “There. Wear that if you're cold.”

After that Stiles was blessedly quiet for several minutes – not silent, this was Stiles, he was never silent – as he wrapped himself in the jacket and dug a book out from his backpack. The rest of the pack would be over later for dinner and a general 'has anyone noticed anything weird lately that needs our attention' discussion, but Stiles was generally there early. Derek figured it was mostly so the teen had someone to bug when his dad or Scott were busy with other things.

* * *

By the time the dinner was over and everyone was heading out, Derek was feeling much more at ease. The wolves all brushed against each other, making sure they all smelled of each other and pack. It was mostly subconsciously, but Derek knew enough to pick up on what they were doing. From the way Stiles was grinning as he watched Erica punch Scott's shoulder, the kid knew what was going on too.

Stiles was half-way out the door when he suddenly turned and stumbled back in, sliding Derek's jacket off his shoulders.

“I almost forgot! Here Creeper, have this back. Where's mine?”

Derek just looked at him for a moment, breathing in the mingled scents. Stiles smelled so much better when it was _his_ scent that was...

Oh.

Oh, _shit._

“It's in the wash,” Derek heard himself say. “You can get it next time.”

“Derek!” Stiles sounded annoyed. “What am I meant to wear home then?”

Raising an eyebrow, Derek glanced as his jacket. Stiles was still holding it, it shouldn't take much effort to understand. He didn't trust himself to speak at the moment – he was too busy mentally berating himself for not realising sooner.

When it looked like Stiles was going to protest, Derek pushed him out of the door – gentler than usual, but still enough to get more of his scent on the boy – and closed it.

He could hear Stiles splutter for a moment, before the boy walked away grumbling. Derek sat heavily on his sofa, mind reeling at the evening's revelations. It made sense now, why he always hated it when Peter was touching Stiles, or when Stiles smelled too much like someone else. He liked it when Stiles smelled like him.

He wanted Stiles to always smell like him.

Now... to make sure it happened.

* * *

For a few days, Derek managed to dodge Stiles' attempts to return his jacket. Once he judged that his own scent was starting to fade from it, he took it back and had to think of something else. Unfortunately, Derek had never really been the best at making plans.

* * *

Two days after Derek took his jacket back, they had another pack get together – this time just a movie night. After watching the way Jackson and Scott cuddled their respective partners, getting their scents all over the girls, the alpha had an idea.

As the pack all gathered in the living room, arguing over the night's film, Derek settled himself on the sofa in his usual place. Stiles made to move past him to the other end, leaving room between him and Derek for Isaac. Instead, though, Derek reached out and snagged the back of his shirt, yanking Stiles down to sit next to him. The teen flailed for a moment, squirming in place, but settled fairly easily. He kept arguing for action-comedy over romantic comedy, at least, with barely a break for breathing.

Derek felt satisfied as he left his arm along the back of the couch, his arm brushing against the back of Stiles' neck. It wasn't exactly uncommon for him to pull the betas in, and movie nights often ended up with Isaac or Erica, sometimes even both, cuddling into him. As a result Stiles didn't seem to find the current situation too strange. Once the pack settled on a movie, Isaac raised an eyebrow at Stiles' position, but shrugged and sat next to him.

Apparently they'd settled on a compromise – a romantic comedy involving zombies. It was interesting enough that the teens were all actually quiet throughout, with some actually touching moments. By the time the movie finished Stiles was curled into Derek's side, with Isaac's head in his lap. Derek's instincts were all perfectly contented, especially with the combined scents of the pack spread around the room and his own mingling with Stiles'.

He took deep breaths, completely content.

* * *

A few days later, however, the content feelings were gone. Stiles had another lesson with Peter, after a long, hard lacrosse practice, which left him smelling of strangers and Peter. Derek was frustrated, and didn't even have a chance to fix the problem. Stiles was going to have dinner with his dad, and Derek couldn't hold him back from that.

That night, though, he couldn't sleep. The thought was consuming him, that Stiles was wandering around stinking of other people. His claim wasn't on the boy any more, anyone could challenge and try to woo Stiles away!

As soon as he had that thought, though, Derek growled and smothered his face in his pillow. Seriously, woo him away? They weren't in eighteenth-century England!

He huffed out a growl – then froze. The pillow over his face, it was covered in his scent. Maybe...

Before he could think better of it, Derek bundled up his pillow and blanket, then headed out. By then it was nearly one in the morning, making it a simple matter to drive to Stiles' house. The Sheriff was home, but all of the lights were out. In a few moves Derek was slipping into Stiles' bedroom with his bedding.

The teen was fast asleep, but at his desk. In a way that worked for Derek's plans, though it did concern him a little. He quickly stripped Stiles' bed, replacing everything with his own bedding. That should help to get Stiles properly scented.

Once the bed was made, Derek gently picked Stiles up. The teen just mumbled and cuddled closer. Derek slipped Stiles' shoes and outer shirt off. He briefly considered taking off Stiles' jeans, but they weren't too tight to sleep in, and there would be too much risk of the boy waking. Instead he laid Stiles down and covered him with the alpha's blanket.

Derek stayed for a few minutes more, making sure that Stiles was sleeping peacefully. He was half way out the window, then paused. There was something else he needed.

When he finally went to sleep, it was with his head on a pillow that smelled like Stiles.

* * *

“Derek!” The door flew open, letting Stiles storm in. Derek jerked awake from one of the best sleeps he'd had in years, thanks to the presence of Stiles' pillow. He hadn't even registered that someone was approaching, normally he was aware of anyone walking towards his apartment.

With a short grumble, Derek rolled out of bed. He could still hear Stiles demanding his presence from the living room, and decided he couldn't be bothered putting on a shirt. His track pants hung low on his hips, but they covered enough. So he went out to see what the hell Stiles was doing in his apartment when he should have been at school.

Leaning against his door frame, Derek inhaled deeply with satisfaction. Stiles was saturated in Derek's scent.

“Dude,” Stiles exclaimed when he noticed Derek, “what the hell? You broke into my house!”

“You shouldn't leave your window open,” Derek shrugged. He smirked when he noticed Stiles' eyes tracking the movement of his muscles.

“I... You! That's not the issue here!” Stiles gesticulated wildly, the pillow in his hand smacking against the wall. “You can't just break into my house and change my blankets and _put me to bed_ like I'm some sort of child!”

“You're not a child,” Derek's eyes narrowed. That idea didn't sit well with him at all. “Would you rather I left you at your desk to sleep badly?”

“Well, I... You could have woken me! And you shouldn't have changed my bedding! That's totally creepy. I probably smell disgusting now!”

“You don't smell bad,” Derek frowned. He stepped forward and grabbed the back of Stiles' neck, pulling him forward. Ignoring the yelp Stiles let out, he lowered his head and ran his nose along Sties' neck. The blend of scents was... “Perfect.”

“Uh, Derek?” Stiles mumbled, his hands going to Derek's arms. “This is kinda weird. The sniffing thing, not the hauling me around thing, 'cause that's pretty much par for the course. So, uh, sniffing? Your nose on my neck? Gonna explain?”

Stiles' scent was shifting, and Derek smiled. This was what he wanted.

“You figure it out,” he muttered, lips catching on Stiles' skin. He felt the boy shiver, and felt the satisfaction growing. Derek considered for a moment, then mentally shrugged. Why not go for it? He nuzzled against Stiles' neck, finding the best spot, then opened his mouth and licked.

A gasp escaped Stiles before the boy seemed to melt. He wrapped himself around Derek, pressing as close as he could, which told the alpha all he needed to know. Derek latched onto Stiles' neck and sucked, leaving his mark for all to see.

“You're so frustrating,” Stiles groaned, one hand going up to tug at Derek's hair. “I couldn't figure out whether you actually liked me or just wanted to wring my neck, guess you just wanted to mark my neck. And the jacket! It's a scent thing, right? You've been scent-marking me like mad, haven't you? You like- Ow!” Stiles yelped as Derek nipped harder. He licked the skin to soothe it, then pulled back to inspect his work.

“Caveman,” Stiles muttered. Derek just smirked at him, satisfied with the trail of hickies leading up Stiles' neck. “So, you've mauled my neck. Do I get a kiss yet?”

Derek rolled his eyes, but leaned in. As their mouths pressed together, Stiles's confidence seemed to pick up and the boy ran his hands across Derek's skin. That suited Derek just fine.

By the time they were done, their scents were going to be irreversibly entwined.


End file.
